


Breakfast and other ways to say I love you

by borealowl



Series: Four Cups of Wine and related stories [4]
Category: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: (Naomi in this case), Found Family, I mean the entire series is about found family, M/M, POV Outsider
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-27
Updated: 2020-02-27
Packaged: 2021-02-28 03:14:55
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,637
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22916818
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/borealowl/pseuds/borealowl
Summary: Naomi and Yael's perspective on learning that their friends aren't human. Maybe they shouldn't have been so quick to dismiss that "angel and demon" theory.
Relationships: Aziraphale/Crowley (Good Omens)
Series: Four Cups of Wine and related stories [4]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1605910
Comments: 41
Kudos: 380





	Breakfast and other ways to say I love you

**Author's Note:**

  * For [MJ_Spooks](https://archiveofourown.org/users/MJ_Spooks/gifts).



> CaraMiaKitty wanted to see Naomi and Yael's POV about the big reveal, so here it is!

“I know you’re tired, but do you mind staying up a little longer to talk?”

Yael considers this for a moment. It’s something Naomi loves about her, how seriously she takes questions about her wants and needs.

“I think I can manage a little longer,” she says.

Despite Naomi’s request, it takes her a couple minutes before she can organize her thoughts to say anything. Fortunately, Yael is patient.

Finally, Naomi says the first thing that comes to mind, just to break the silence. “So, an angel and a demon. An actual angel and an actual demon.”

“Are you annoyed that we didn’t seriously consider the idea?”

Naomi thinks about it. “Not really. I mean, we didn’t actually seriously consider any of the ideas, you know? It’s one thing to think ‘oh, my friends have weird magical powers and might be thousands of years old,’ but I didn’t really take it _seriously_ , you know? They were just our weird best friends-slash-brothers. Anyway, it’s not like any of our friends are particularly normal.”

“No, but it’s not as if Eli or Lori regularly performs actual miracles.” 

"What about Mirka?"

"You'll notice I didn't mention her."

Naomi sighs. “Yeah, no, you’re right. I'm slightly annoyed that I didn't seriously consider the question. And I am going to have to reconsider my previously held assumptions about angels, if Zira is one.”

“Well, he’s probably not a typical angel. And I get the impression that Crowley isn’t a typical demon, either.”

“True.” Naomi sits straight up as a memory surfaces. “Wait, Crowley said that their families tried to kill them! Does that mean that there are actual angels and demons after them? Are they okay?”

Yael’s eyes widen ask she considers this. “I hope so. I think that they must be okay, because they don’t seem constantly worried for their safety. But maybe we should ask them. I hate to bring up painful memories for them, but now that you mention it, I’m worried too.”

Naomi makes a face. “I actually feel a little bad about all the joking we did, speculating about their secret identities. It can’t have been easy for them.”

“No, but I don’t think they’ll be upset. I’ll bet that if we tell them their theories, they’ll think it’s funny.”

She’s almost certainly correct. Zira will chuckle and Crowley will either feign outrage or mercilessly tease them, depending on his mood. Either way, it will be entertaining.

“Although,” Yael continues, “Let’s be careful about mentioning our previous theory that Crowley was more likely to be the angel, in case it’s a sensitive issue.”

“Oh. Yeah.” There’s another pause while Naomi gathers her thoughts again. “I just…do you think we handled it well?”

“The conversation tonight? I think so. I certainly hope so. But they seemed mostly reassured by the time we were done talking, so I do think it went okay. Are you worried about it?”

“A little. And I feel a little bad about all the laughing. I mean, it was probably good, to break the tension, but it’s a little annoying when you’ve psyched yourself up to reveal something you think is a big secret and then no one is surprised.”

Yael raises an eyebrow. “Remembering when you came out to your parents?”

“Exactly!” She’d decided to make one big declaration to the entire family, so she’d waited until all four sisters were home for Hanukkah and announced it over dinner. There had been a brief silence, broken by her father saying, “Yes? But what’s your big news?” Naomi’s attempt to explain that her sexuality _was_ the big news had only led to further confusion among a family that had somehow formed the collective impression that she’d come out months ago.

Yael chuckled. “I mostly remember when you asked me for advice on coming out, and I just sort of stared at you and said, ‘I have no idea how loving parents react to things.’”

“Yeah, that was a bit awkward. But then you told me that dad knew you were a lesbian and was always supportive. That was reassuring, given how much my parents already adored you.” Naomi can still remember the night her father introduced her to his newest protégée. She was shy, awkward, very intelligent, and breathtakingly gorgeous, and Naomi had wanted to follow her around the house soaking up everything she said. It had been the first time she’d actually regretted her father’s ban on dating any of his students. She smiles at the memory. “Anyway, I wasn’t actually asking you because I needed advice.”

Yael blinks at her. “You weren’t?”

“Nope! I was letting you know that I liked girls, in case, you know, you _just happened_ to be interested.”

Yael buries her face in her hands. "I should have guessed." Naomi pulls her close and kisses her cheek.

“It’s fine, it all turned out for the best.” It had been worth her awkward crush, and the long period where she'd thought they would only ever be friends, and the year of Naomi's failed attempts at flirting, and Yael's dramatic confession—hilarious in retrospect but less so at the time—and all the time and effort of building a marriage. Naomi knows how fortunate she is, that things have all turned out for the best, that she has so many people who love her. And she's willing to work to keep them. 

Yael kisses her back and smiles. “We’ve gotten a bit off topic, haven’t we?”

“Yeah. I am still a bit worried about Zira and Crowley. I just don’t want to drive them away. What if we wake up and they're gone?"

"That would require Crowley to wake up before you do, and that's far harder to believe in than angels and demons." 

"True. And Zira wouldn't leave before breakfast. But I do want to talk to them tomorrow and make sure. Plus,” she admits, “I’m _really_ curious about their lives so far.”

“Ah, that’s the Naomi I know and love. Just be sensitive about asking.”

“Of course! And on the subject of being sensitive to feelings, you’re sort of broadcasting ‘let me sleep,’ aren’t you.”

“I sort of am. I’m sorry, sweet, but I really do need to sleep.”

Yael drifts off quickly, her breathing slowing to something deep and even, but Naomi lies awake for a while, mind whirling. She has so many questions—metaphysical, historical, personal—and she wants to ask them all at once. She’s trying to arrange them in order of importance and intrusiveness when she drops off.

*****

A buzz around her wrist wakes her seven hours later—she’d set the silent alarm to avoid waking Yael. Sleepily and with great reluctance, she leaves her warm bed behind, gets dressed, and heads outside. She picks up bagels, cream cheese, and lox from the good deli (bypassing the three mediocre ones on the way), then stops by the market to get a tomato. January is not the best time for produce, but Zira and Yael both love tomato on their bagels. She giggles to herself as she realizes why the winter tomatoes are always perfectly ripe when Zira’s around. She grabs a few apples as well—the autumn crisps aren’t exactly in season either, but it will be fun to see Crowley’s reaction when she offers him one. And knowing Zira, the apples will be in better shape than they should be. There’s something incredibly endearing about an angel who uses his divinely-granted miraculous powers to make food taste better. On an impulse, she ducks into the old bakery that has somehow survived forty-odd years of gentrification and buys a cherry-cheese strudel and a poppy seed roll.

No one else has come downstairs while she was gone, so Naomi spends extra time fussing with breakfast. Is there enough protein? Just in case, she boils some eggs, then starts the coffee maker and gets out the orange juice. Finally, she lays everything out on the table, along with plates and knives and napkins. It's a lot of food. But isn't that how you're supposed to react in a crisis? Make sure everyone has a good meal, at least. Not that this is actually a crisis. But that's also how you're supposed to react to good news—celebrate with a good meal. So she's set either way. 

She hears footsteps behind her, and Zira says, “That looks scrumptious.” He’s the only one she knows who can pull that off without sounding ironic or twee.Well, not too twee.

“Lipsky family tradition. Something happens, we get a lot of food. Just wait 'til you see what I'm planning for dinner.” Then she turns around. “Oh, and good morning! How did you sleep? Oh, wait, oops. _Do_ you sleep? You’re always awake whenever I see you. If that’s not too personal a question.”

He smiles at her. “Not at all. And no, I can sleep, but I don’t have to, and I generally prefer not to. Unlike Crowley, I never really got into the habit.”

She nods, bites back the torrent of follow-up questions, and fills up the electric kettle so Zira can have tea.

When she runs out of tasks, she retreats to the living room and curls up on the sofa, sipping at her coffee while Zira drinks his tea and nibbles on a slice of poppy roll. The two early risers of the family, they’ve spent many weekend mornings this way, relaxing and chatting and waiting for everyone else to wake up. As usual, they maintain a companionable silence for a few minutes before Naomi hits her limit.

“So, I have a ton of questions,” she starts. Zira nods, so she continues, “But I should probably wait for Yael and Crowley to come downstairs before I bombard you with them.”

He glances towards the stairs. “I believe Crowley has a question or two for you as well.”

“Oh?”

“I’ll let him ask.”

The silence stretches out longer this time. There are too many things Naomi wants to say, and she’s even sure where to start. She doesn’t want to mess this up. So she fidgets, and drinks her coffee, and tries to think of the right words, until Zira breaks the silence himself.

“We can sense love, you know. Angels, I mean.”

She looks up, slightly startled, to see him watching her.

“What do you mean?”

“It’s…a feeling.” He presses a hand to his chest. “I know when someone feels love, or when a place or person is very loved.”

“Oh. That’s…useful?”

He shakes his head, smiling. “What I am trying to say, my dear, is that you don’t have to reassure me. I can feel how much you love us. And each other. It’s one of the first things I noticed about you.”

“Oh! That _is_ useful.” And a relief. “So is that why you agreed to come to our seder?

He smiles wryly and stares at the mug in his hands. “To be honest, I mostly accepted your invitation to annoy Crowley. I didn’t understand why he had insisted on accompanying me all the way to New York, especially since he kept complaining about it. And I did very much want to see your books, as well. But, Naomi." He looks up from his tea and meets her eyes. “My initial reasons for pursuing the acquaintance were selfish, and absent other motivation, I doubt Crowley and I would have remained in your life. But then you brought us into your family, and I could feel that you meant it. It was worrying, at first, to have humans offer us something like that, but now that I understand the concept better, I'm very glad that you did. And that's why we've stayed.” He takes another bite of poppy seed roll. "Well, that and the food." 

“Food is important!" Naomi says in cheerful agreement. "So, can Crowley sense it, too? Love, I mean, not food.”

“No, he has other talents.”

Her eyebrows go up. “I’m sure he does,” she says, drawing the syllables out for maximum insinuation.

“That’s not what I was referring to, and you know it,” the angel says primly, turning pink.

“You’re not denying it, though.” She grins at him.

“No, I’m not.” Zira smiles, still pink and just a little bit smug, and Naomi giggles. Despite the old-fashioned demeanor, he's much easier to tease about these things than Crowley. Then she turns serious, thinking about funny, anxious, insatiably curious Crowley, who does a thousand small kindnesses and rejects even the slightest bit of gratitude.

“Being a demon must be hard.”

“I think it must be.”

They’re silent for a moment. 

“Is there anything we can do to help?”

“You’ve helped quite a bit already. I’m glad that there are others who love him.”

“Even if he can’t sense it?”

“Humans can’t either, and yet you seem to manage.”

“Fair point!” Sometimes you guess and hope you don't get it wrong. Sometimes you just have to trust. Naomi's not always great at guessing, but her record is pretty good when it comes to trust.

She hears footsteps and looks up as Yael breezes through the living room, saying “Good morning I love you I need coffee,” pausing only long enough to kiss Naomi quickly before heading to the kitchen. There are more footsteps in the dining room, and she hears Miriam’s voice saying “Strudel?!”

Naomi stands up, stretching, and Zira follows suit.

“There goes our quiet morning. It was good while it lasted.”

“I'm sure there will be many more,” Zira replies.

“I hope so.” She doesn't ask for reassurance, doesn't say _you're not leaving us, right?_ She has learned, mostly from Yael, to give people space when they need it. But maybe Zira does have extra senses, or maybe he just knows her, because he offers reassurance anyway. 

"There will be. And breakfasts as well. We'll make sure of it."

As they sit around the table, Crowley comes downstairs, last as always. “You got up,” he tells Zira accusingly. "Now I'm cold." He leans forward and presses his face into Zira’s shoulder.

“I was hungry, dearest.”

Crowley’s response is too muffled for Naomi to make out, though from the tone, she assumes he’s complaining. Zira pats his head. 

“Go easy on him, Zira,” Naomi says. “He has to sleep for both of you.”

“Don’t _have_ to do anything,” mutters Crowley.

“That’s true!” Naomi says brightly. “So you have no excuse for sleeping in so late.”

“I, er, gah. I hate you.”

“Hey,” she says to Crowley. “You know we love you, right?” Like Zira said, she'll just have to do things the human way.

He buries his face in Zira’s shoulder again, and she can barely hear his reply. “Ss'too early in the morning for this.”

“It’s almost noon,” Miriam says around a mouthful of strudel. "Also, she's right."

“Definitely too early. I’m going back to bed.” He lifts his head and looks toward the stairs, though he doesn't completely let go of Zira. He doesn't seem to be actually upset—if anything, he looks pleased. He's not wearing his glasses, and Naomi can actually read his expression for once. 

“Can we bribe you to stay?” asks Yael, emerging from the kitchen with two mugs. "I can offer coffee."

Crowley turns back toward the table. “Coffee _is_ tempting.”

Naomi picks up one of the apples. “Hey, I have it on good authority that these are pretty tempting as well.” She extends it towards him, waggling her hand. "Hmm? Hmmm?"

Yael, Zira, and Miriam try not to laugh, though only Zira comes close to succeeding. Crowley glares at all of them. “I should go sleep for another century,” he grumbles. 

But instead he sits at the table, and he takes the offered apple, and he eats it, and they stay.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading! I'm close to finishing the rather silly story of the parent-teacher conference, so hopefully I'll have that up soon.


End file.
